The Gifted Curse
by Quantumphysica
Summary: "It's such a pity you and Harry hate each other. I bet he would love to have someone else to chat with besides You-Know-Who. Not that they chat of course, but you know what I mean." In which slander and speech impediments are battled, old secrets get uncovered, dementors meet the Cruciatus Curse, and irony is a big black dog. Sequel to An Accursed Gift, can be read separately.
1. Rabastan Lestrange's Tragic Love Life

**IMPORTANT: THIS IS A SEQUEL, BUT CAN BE READ SEPARATELY.**

**If you haven't read the previous parts, "A Gift And A Curse" and "An Accursed Gift", then this is the information you need. **

**main character: Crucio Carina Lestrange, Crucie for short, known generally as Crucie Black to avoid the worst of her death eater heritage. She has the talent (please don't hang up on me I promise she's not a Mary Sue) to wandlessly cruciate people, courtesy of her mother casting too many unforgivables during pregnancy. She loves torture, and her ethics are a little dodgy at least, but she's also a genuinely nice person with not too many prejudices, an interest in muggle technology, and a fierce loyalty to those she considers her family. **

**She's a good friend of Hermione, and they work together to create a magical battery that can make muggle things function in a magical environment. **

**She lives with her uncle Rabastan (who managed to stay out of Azkaban) in an apartment on Knockturn Alley. She spends most of her time there at Borgin And Burke's, where she works as unofficial shop assistant and puts her torture talent to good use during "negotiations". **

**She made friends with the portrait of Salazar Slytherin, and when in her second year the basilisk was killed, he asked her to "give her a burial". Crucie threatened Harry Potter into bringing her to the chamber, where she used an old spell to set the spirit of a familiar free on the remains of the snake. Thanks to her, Hogwarts is one fifty feet long basilisk ghost richer... **

**The events are largely canon, so you should have no trouble with the other things that have happened in the past two stories. **

**PLEASE READ AND REVIEW?**

"I can't believe he did that!"

Crucie stared at Rabastan, who had only just explained her why Lucius was acting strangely. Apparently the mysterious Tom Riddle diary was a dark artefact that could possess people into doing its bidding, and even though Lucius hadn't known that at the time he still was the one who had given the diary to Ginny Weasley… hence his strange behaviour.

"I'm pretty sure he did. He's having quite a bit of trouble with his job at the ministry now, for possession of dark artefacts."

"Wow, but… he didn't know? How can you have a rude-ass diary and not know it houses an evil possessing spirit?"

Rabastan laughed.

"Crucie, you have no idea how funny that sounds. Trust me, when Lucius found out neither you nor Draco were the Heir, he got into quite the panic attack… He could have easily lost his job if they had made the link between the Chamber and the diary and held him to it, you see."

"Yeah, and you thought Draco had a girlfriend."

"Pffft, in retrospect I'm willing to bet that he doesn't even swing that way."

Rabastan knowingly rolled his eyes and Crucie grinned widely.

"10 galleons and a chocolate fudge pie that he's gay?"

"Deal."

They shook hands as if they had just made an important business deal, before bursting out in laughter. Crucie felt warm inside when her uncle pulled her close for a hug.

"I missed you, Cruce…" He waited a moment. "Have you actually seen that infamous diary?"

Crucie laughed.

"I missed you too, uncle… and yeah, I've seen it. I'm still happy I cursed the hell out of it."

Rabastan's mouth fell open.

"You did that? Crucie, do you have any idea how dangerous that could have been?"

Crucie shrugged.

"He was all talk but in the end I'm pretty sure it hurt him as much as anyone. It was quite funny actually."

Her uncle shook his head.

"You are so your mother in some things…"

_(Pagebreak)_

There were few things Crucie liked more than torturing someone. Scratch that, there was absolutely nothing she liked more than torturing someone. The man that had tried to steal something from Mr Burke's shop would most likely be cured of kleptomania forever after the treatment Crucie was giving him. She carefully made notes in her Torture Registry while watching the man writhe on the ground, his mouth opened but his screams proficiently muffled to the outside world by Mr Burke's Privacy Box, which absorbed all sound in a certain perimenter of it. It felt delightful as usual… At long last she broke the curse, leaving the man panting and crying on the shop floor. Calmly she informed him.

"You see sir, it is not advisable to try and steal anything here on Knockturn Alley. You're lucky I like to torture, most shopkeepers here wouldn't hesitate to Avada you on the spot."

The man looked at the young twelve –nearly thirteen- year old girl and shivered, not capable of speaking yet. The remnants of a truly vicious torture curse were still raging through his body. He didn't want to know what kind of demon this girl was, that she could perform such an unforgivable wandlessly and non-verbally… She stuck out a hand to him and he curled up even more. She laughed.

"Please, let me help you up. I don't bite!"

Crucie helped the man up, and smiled at him.

"You better don't underestimate me just because I'm small. Mr Burke would never let me stand behind the counter if he thought I wasn't capable."

The man nodded, trying to ignore the tremor that still made his whole body shake.

"Either way, thank you for participating in my experiments. You have the honour of being my 800th subject!"

Somehow, the cheeriness the girl radiated made her all the more frightening. The man nodded and quickly scurried to the door, vowing to himself to never come close to this part of Knockturn Alley ever again… He had only left for a minute when Mr Burke returned from his lunch break.

"Anything happened?"

"Oh, some guy tried to steal your Hand of Glory, I let him know exactly what we think of that here. How was lunch?"

"It was good."

Caractacus Burke was not a sentimental man and the amount of people he had liked in his entire life could be counted on one hand. He had never married and had as far as he knew never knocked a girl up, and therefor the rest of the Burke family wasn't exactly on speaking terms with him. Even the portrait of his great-great-great-grandmother Elizabeth refused to talk to him because of his failure to produce an heir. Yet Crucio Lestrange… she was something else. Caractacus loved her like the grandchild he never had. Ever since the day she had stumbled into his store as a small seven year old, he had loved the girl.

"So, how is Rabastan?"

Crucie grinned.

"Ah, you know. Still generously misusing memory charms so he can sleep around without getting caught by the Aurors."

Mr Burke chuckled dryly.

"Of course."

Crucie was pensive. She pondered.

"I wonder why he never married. I mean, isn't it a pureblood thing to make a respectable marriage? Not that he's respectable in most things, but he's pretty big on the pureblood stuff."

Mr Burke sighed deeply.

"Your uncle won't easily forgive me for telling you this, so I suggest you don't tell him I told you."

In that moment Crucie found that Mr Burke bore a very deep resemblance to the portrait of Salazar Slytherin right before he had told her about the Chamber. She bent more towards the old man, eager to hear what he was going to say. The old shopkeeper sighed again and began his story.

"Most pureblood families carry with them a long history of broken hearts, scorned lovers, family feuds, betrayal and anguish. I don't have to tell you that where love, money and power are involved people are capable of doing quite atrocious things to one another."

"I know that, but…"

"I wasn't finished. Along with their ancestry, most pureblood families carry at least one curse with them. The Malfoys by example only have one child per generation. Somewhere in the 18th century a warlock wanted to make sure his wife would bare a son, but his incantations also made sure that she –and all the Malfoy women after her- would only bare one son. No less, no more. Your family's curse, the Lestrange curse, is slightly more dramatic, and quite a bit older. In the 15th century a Lestrange broke a young witch's heart when he left her for a richer party, despite their contract of betrothal… In her anguish she cursed him and all his male descendants, and from then on the Lestrange men were able to give their love only once. Once they promised their love to someone, they would only feel romantic affection for this person and no one else."

"Huh?"

"So, they would not break their marriage contract, because such a contract involves promising to love the other. Even if they weren't in love at the time, the curse made sure that only for their betrothed they would ever feel love. The words of marriage contracts are empty for most arranged marriages… but not for the Lestranges."

Crucie suddenly understood.

"Wow. Smart. That's one way to make sure a guy doesn't cheat on you!" She thought a little longer about it. "So, my father truly loves my mom and no one else?"

"He wouldn't be able to love another woman even if he wanted to."

"That's… actually that's pretty romantic."

Mr Burke sent her a dark look.

"Do you understand now why your uncle never married?"

She thought, and then it hit her. Crucie bit her lip.

"Oh no… You mean he once sealed a marriage contract, but something happened to his betrothed, and now he can never love anyone else?"

"Something happened indeed… Something that, along with other things, eventually put your whole family in the place it is now. Literally and metaphorically."

Crucie's mouth fell open.

"But… but… how?"

"It's not my story to tell, Crucio. Just know that when your uncle sleeps around, it's not just because he has loose morals. He still loves her, even after all he has tried to make himself hate her and move on, and it hurts him more than you know."

Mr Burke noticed how the girl that had been sitting on the counter, cheerily swinging her legs, now looked rather downcast.

"I never knew…"

"You do now. But remember, don't tell him I told you, he would hex me into oblivion if he knew."

"Who was she?"

"A beautiful pureblood witch who made some very, very unfortunate life choices. As I said, it's not my story to tell. Now can you get off the counter and find me a pink Blood Quill in the backroom? Some lady asked for it, she was very specific that it had to be pink. If you find none, you can spell it to be pink; that woman couldn't tell a flamingo from a pink painted pigeon if you ask me."

Crucie went on with the tasks of the day, but in her head she went over the things Mr Burke had told her. She felt terribly sorry for her favourite uncle, and decided to bring home chocolate fudge pie even though she couldn't tell him why.

_(Pagebreak)_

The holidays passed in no time, as they always did. Crucie's torture book slowly filled up further, more muggle artefacts found their way to her room, and more than once Rabastan found himself fleeing the apartment from his ash-covered, angrily hissing niece after a failed battery experiment. Crucie conversed with Mr Weasley on the matter of the battery-potion, trying to find the right measurements for it, but so far they hadn't had any luck. With each experiment however the solution came closer… In any case, Crucie's summer was well filled.

When she wasn't torturing or experimenting she could be found in the back of Borgin And Burke's, reading her dark arts book. The book was a goldmine of information on a plethora of things… subtle mind control charms, spells for blowing things up that wouldn't be countered with a "reparo", potions that made one's blood boil, ways to target illnesses on people or cause infertility, a spell that made the male genitals shrivel (it was strangely enough found under "household hexes"), various rituals that bordered on necromancy, soul magic, and to her greatest delight two whole chapters on the Cruciatus Curse and its many uses, among other things. There was no day that Crucie didn't find something new and wondrous in the forbidden book…

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

Crucie looked up to find Mr Burke looking at her.

"Oh yes! This book is awesome!"

"I am very glad you like it so much… Find anything useful?"

"Plenty! I… I still don't really understand why these things aren't taught at school. Many of these spells would save us so much time, not to mention the insight we could gain in the workings of magic!"

Mr Burke nodded, surprised that the young girl had such a positive opinion on it all. He knew enough pureblood families where the dark arts were taught as some sort of secret weapon, solely for hurtful purposes. Crucie however didn't seem to consider the dark arts any different from the "light" magic that was taught at school.

"Dark spells, even when they're not meant to hurt or kill, are difficult to counter and often impossible to reverse. People are scared of everything they can't undo."

"That's just stupid."

"I agree."

**(Author's Notes)**

**First chapter of the third installment in this series! Please tell me what you think... The plot-twist with Rabastan's disastrous love-life is an on-going theme, I wonder what you people think of it. I would love to know your opinions, because honestly I'm quite unsure about this. so...**

**PLEASE REVIEW? **

**Even if you have nothing positive to say, I still want to hear it...**

**PS: If you have questions about the Lestrange Family Curse, check the informational extra bit in the Author's Notes at the end of Chapter 2. After getting some very valid questions I have added that there for anyone who may be wondering about the curse and its workings. If you still have questions, please tell me and I will try my best to answer them!**


	2. Strange Pain

Crucie missed Hogwarts, but she knew she would miss her family more from the moment she boarded the train. Standing on King's Cross Station with the Malfoys, Crucie sighed. She turned at Lucius and on a whim she hugged him. The man was completely taken by surprise.

"I'll miss you, uncle Lucius."

Slightly awkwardly, Lucius patted Crucie on her back.

"I'll miss you too Crucio…"

"Tell uncle Rabastan that I love him, okay?"

"Err… Sure. I will."

"I love you too, you know."

"Thanks. I… Err… I appreciate you too little one."

Crucie knew that was probably the most affectionate thing Lucius Abraxas Malfoy had ever said to anyone in public. When she finally released him from her hug, Crucie caught Draco's look. Ouch, if looks could kill… She giggled and resisted the urge to send her cousin a painful jab. After all, she had gotten a hug from Mr Malfoy whereas Draco had not, that should count as enough for now. Crucie got on the train and found herself an empty compartment. She let Timor out of his cat-bench and softly patted him.

"Back to Hogwarts, Timor… You looking forward to it too?"

"Mew."

"I knew you did."

Looking over her empty compartment, Crucie sighed. Usually she went to sit with Pansy's clique, but this time Pansy was hanging around (and on) Draco, and the other girls has spread over the train. Crucie hoped Daphne would come and sit with her. Eventually that didn't happen, instead she got the only two Slytherin boys she didn't think were complete idiots, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. She didn't know Blaise too well, but Theodore wasn't a ridiculously-easy-to-frighten appendage to Draco anymore, which was a definite improvement. He also seemed to have grown since the last time Crucie had really paid any attention to him. They didn't talk much, and during the train ride Crucie kept to herself mostly.

When the Hogwarts Express stopped, she felt something wasn't right. It just felt… wrong, the kind of wrong she knew from living in Malfoy Manor. Desperately wrong. She shivered involuntarily. The other two boys in her compartment seemed to feel it too. Something awful and desperate hung in the air and neither of them knew what it was. When the compartment door opened, they knew it. Theodore's eyes widened in pure fear as a tall, hooded creature entered, and with it all the positive feelings got drained from the space. Crucie didn't think she had ever felt so… so empty, devoid of every good feeling… She just sat there and stared. Theodore appeared to be having some kind of panic attack, Blaise tried to look at something else, and Crucie stared. The creature turned her way, and it was as if suddenly she was somewhere else. Empty grey corridors, flashes of faces, screaming, familiar curls, despair… Crucie didn't realize she was crying until someone shook her.

"Crucie, it's gone, wake up!"

She blinked and was back in the compartment, where Blaise Zabini was worriedly shaking her. Embarrassed, she dried her tears.

"I'm sorry."

"Seriously, Theo thought that thing had stolen your soul or something!"

"No… It was a warning."

Crucie's eyes met Theodore's, and she knew he understood what she meant. After all, the Lestranges hadn't been the only ones to get captured and thrown in Azkaban.

Her mind wandered back to the "Wanted" posters she had seen all over Diagon Alley. Sirius Black. A family member she had never met. Uncle Rabastan had told her long ago already that he was not one of them, and that the family wasn't on speaking terms with him. Nevertheless, Crucie was curious after the man. He had been There, where her parents were as well. Maybe he had seen them, spoken to them… and she wished for nothing more than news about her family, no matter how… awful it might be. She felt she had to know, even though that small sliver the dementor had granted her had already made her cry.

To know that her parents were There, deprived of all happiness, never seeing the sunlight, maddened with their own memories… Crucie hid her trembling hands from the boys. They didn't need to see her distress. Her dear family… Internally, Crucie felt like she could fall to her knees and wail, just wail in agony. Outwards she showed nothing of sorts, all she did was taking Timor on her lap and letting the cruciatus curse loose on him, unseen by the others. Control, it all came down to control.

The rest of the trip passed in relative silence only broken by Timor's loud mewing and purring, but the strange occurrence hung heavily between them…

_(Pagebreak)_

Everyone was looking forward to the classes given by new professors, eager to see if the new DADA professor would be any improvement, and whether or not Hagrid's biting monster books would devour someone before the first class. Surprisingly enough, it was a very, very old professor who gave the first interesting class. It wasn't he who made the class interesting though. Everyone was surprised to find not one but two ghosts in Professor Binns' classroom for the term's first History of Magic lesson.

"Nah-nah-nah-nah-naaaah!"

"And the goblin rebellion leader Radock was beheaded by…"

"Nah-NAH-NAH-NAH-NAAAAH!"

"… And the third accomplice in charge of the…"

"NA-NAH-NAHNAHNAAAH-NA-NA-NA-NA-NAAAHNAAAH!"

"Will you stop that Myrtle?"

"No."

"Myrtle."

"No."

"MYRTLE!"

"Well, if you wouldn't be so boring I wouldn't feel the need to interrupt you."

"I am not boring, you are simply vindictive because I gave you only a Dreadful for my class."

"Yes, you are boring. I mean, look around! Everyone would be sleeping if not for me! You have the most boring voice ever! Always droning on and on about the same damn boring subject!"

Moaning Myrtle tauntingly floated around Professor Binns, who glared at her in a surprisingly alive way. Annoyed he remarked.

"Myrtle, why don't you go back to your toilet and let me give my classes?"

"Well, unless that passed you by among with the history of the last 400 years, you should know my toilet is currently the habitual haunt of a fifty feet long BASILISK!" Myrtle looked indignant, but then grinned. "Not to mention that your classroom is far more interesting than that dreary toilet. Really, that place would make anyone cry."

Probably for the first time since long, Professor Binns had the class's full attention. Not that he could make good use of that. He was growing visibly vexed with Myrtle's ghost.

"Myrtle, you were such a nice girl when I had you in my class. What happened to you?"

"Spending fifty years in a toilet crying over being killed by a basilisk, and then discovering said basilisk has decided to come live there as well tends to do that to a person."

Professor Binns sighed.

"Fine, I see your point. You don't want to go back to your toilet. But why must you bother me with that!?"

"Because… because reasons!"

Myrtle pouted and floated circles around the exasperated professor. Everyone was now chuckling and giggling under their breaths, and Professor Binns appeared to realize the goblin rebellions would have to be taught another time.

"Class dismissed. I'm seeing the headmaster about this, Myrtle!"

Angrily, Professor Binns floated through the wall, leaving Myrtle cackling madly. Daphne bent to Crucie while they left the class.

"Wow… Moaning Myrtle has gone mad…"

"Yeah… apparently she has… It suits her better than the crying, I think."

"If she releases us from Binns then she has my full support…"

_(Pagebreak)_

After ditching the Pansy Clique, Crucie decided to make use of her spare time to visit her favourite "inhabitant" of Hogwarts, the one she had missed most.

"Hi there Mr Slytherin!"

"Missss Lessstrange…"

Crucie looked at the portrait, and was surprisingly enough met with a kind smile. She grinned.

"How were the holidays for you?"

"Your chrissssstmasss favour hassss brought me much joy… Sssshe isss very eager to meet you."

"Really?"

"Ah yessss… You are her Ignitor, sssso ssshe ssssharesss a certain connection with you."

"Wow… So… does she really haunt Myrtle's toilet?"

"Tssss… no, of courssse not. Sssshe hauntssss the whole cassstle. Don't worry, ssshe'll find you."

Suddenly, Crucie heard a loud hissing sound, and at the same time an unfamiliar deep female voice in her head.

_"Someone talking about me?"_

A moment later, the head of the basilisk ghost protruded from one of the corridor's walls. Salazar hissed something at the snake while pointing at Crucie.

The serpent bent towards her. She hissed, but at the same time Crucie heard the voice in her head again.

_"So you are the hatchling that freed my spirit… Strange Pain, what an unusual name…"_

"Err… How can I understand you? I… I don't mean to be rude, Miss Regina… but as far as I know I'm not a parselmouth…"

Both Salazar and the basilisk let out a similar hissing laugh that brought the blush to Crucie's cheeks.

"Assss I sssaid, you are the Ignitor of Regina'sss funeral pyre. Trough your connection you can undersssstand her."

"Oh. That's… nice."

_"My Master speaks about you often, Strange Pain… a special female you are… I thank you for freeing me, consider me in your debt."_

It was very strange; Crucie heard hissing, but her mind heard a human voice. It was a bit like synchronic translation. She smiled at Regina.

"You're welcome. I just wanted to make a friend happy."

_"You certainly did." _

"I wonder though… why do you call me Strange Pain?"

The portrait chuckled.

"It'ssss the parssseltongue transsslation of your name. Human namessss are particularly challenging to transsslate properly."

"Oh, I see."

"Sssso, care to tell ussss what you've been doing during the sssummer? I told Regina of your 'talent', and ssshe isss very interesssted to hear how you put it to use…"

Any awkwardness -that may have existed due to the strange nature of a serpent ghost, a magical portrait and a third year student meeting in an abandoned corridor- instantly disappeared as Crucie started telling them about her adventures, and a little later it was as if they had known each other for far longer already. Regina was truly a fascinating person, although indeed a little preoccupied with… mating. Crucie started to fear that she might have accidentally released a one-snake-matchmaking-service on herself…

**(Author's Notes)**

**IMPORTANT INFORMATION HERE!**

**After a rather lengthy discussion with the lovely Qoheleth on the topic of the Lestrange Family Curse that was mentioned n the last chapter, I have decided to add a bit of an explanation of it here. In case you're just going to take the whole thing as it is, deus-ex-machina-style, don't read this. In case you're interested to know the idea behind it, READ IT! I know it's lengthy. Sorry. **

***EXTRA INFORMATIVE PIECE***

**The wording of a contract is often traditional and very old. Arranged marriages mostly aren't a matter of love, even when the contract specifies both parties have to "love, cherish and respect" the other, or something along those lines. It's simply the tradition to perform the ritual with that wording.**  
**It is definitely true that one shouldn't sign a contract unthinkingly or without meaning it, but then again, when the wording of the contract is so old and standardized I can imagine people would forget that there may be consequences to breaking it that go beyond legal penalties, family feud and shame... **  
**I do think Rabastan knew very well what he was getting into with the contract of betrothal, he himself had no intention of breaking it when he signed it.**

**As for the matter of "love"... The action of lovemaking is certainly not inhibited by the curse, and neither is physical attraction. (for proof, see Rabastan's over-active sexlife :P) The emotion however... (now I'm going to get mushy and fluffy, be warned)**  
**With "true love" I meant a concept I once came across in a book I once read, I've forgotten the title but wrote down the quote because I liked it so much. (it's translated, forgive me if it sounds odd): **  
**"To truly love is to see the soul behind the face, behind the actions. There are no ugly souls, only blind eyes... And we are all looking for the eyes that can see our soul."**  
**The curse can't make someone "fall in love" with someone else, as in causing extreme infatuation or physical attraction, and it can't replace a bond of close friendship either... Instead it makes the cursed "see the soul" of his betrothed, it opens his mind to the inner beauty of that person in a way that can't be reversed or stopped. To be confronted with something like that is scarring, it makes everything else pale in comparison... it creates a need, a compulsion almost, to be accepted by said person, to be with that person. **  
**Also, I believe that once the "seeing" has taken place under influence of the curse, no other person can be "seen" in that manner by the cursed again, therefor making a similar bond with someone else impossible. **

**So, technically the curse doesn't oblige the cursed to be in a relationship with his betrothed, he doesn't die or lose his magic if he breaks the contract, and he is still capable of having sex with or being attracted to other people... But all other people would be less attractive than the betrothed, because the curse has opened his mind to her true beauty. Even if she is physically unappealing, or doesn't have the nicest character, for there are no ugly souls. (let's not mention Voldemort here, I do think souls that got ripped apart can be ugly.)**

***END EXTRA INFORMATIVE PIECE***

**So, back to Author's Notes: **

**Yes, Crucie can understand Regina. I liked the concept of Regina, the slightly perverted bane of Myrtle's existence, a bit too much to keep her incomprehensible. I hope you guys don't mind. **

**The vision-thing Crucie experienced on the train, let's call it some evil dementor trick. I don't really want to get into that, but if anyone asks I'll devise some explanation for it. **

**Questions? I'll answer them. Critics? I NEED THEM! Compliments? They motivate me ;) **

**PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!**


	3. How To Scare A Boggart

Crucie was really happy she was taking Arithmancy and not Divination. Everyone who took the course –except for a few giggly girls- said the teacher was a total fraud. She gathered her books to go to her first Defence Against The Dark Arts class with the new teacher. She hoped that the new professor would actually teach her something new. After the stuttering, turban-wearing, renting-out-headspace-to-evil-creatures edition and the one that had suffered a complete breakdown after a simple cruciatus curse, she really hoped things would turn for the better.

The new professor was a slightly haggard looking pale man with a bit of stubble and thin hair that fell over his forehead. He looked awfully tired to Crucie.

"Good day, Class… I am Professor Remus Lupin, your DADA teacher for this term, and hopefully the next one as well."

There was some chuckling. Daphne bent to Crucie and whispered.

"No chance in hell. No DADA teacher has managed to hold the position for more than one term, they say it's been cursed."

"Long ago?"

"It started almost fifty years ago, they say. It sounds silly, but it's been happening consequently and that's just too much of a coincidence."

Their hushed conversation was interrupted when Professor Lupin coughed.

"Ladies, the DADA class is not the right environment to work on your social skills."

Crucie heard Draco –who sat in front of her and didn't know she was the subject of the reprimand- whisper,

"Like he would know, he doesn't look like he has any…"

Annoyed she sent a stroke of pain at him, making her cousin yelp. Remus Lupin looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Is something wrong, Mr…?"

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. And no, nothing is wrong,"

Draco uttered, teeth clenched in frustration. Crucie couldn't help but chuckle, which unfortunately drew the attention to her.

"Does Mr Malfoy's distress amuse you, Miss…?"

"Black, Crucio Black. And yes, it amuses me greatly."

Daphne gasped at her insolence... Crucie smiled as she saw how the professor's eyes narrowed slightly, just slightly. Good, this one passed the test. She just had to see if this one was as nervous and easily startled as his predecessors.

"Interesting first name, Miss Black. Anyhow, I think we have done enough introducing amongst ourselves for the moment, I'll learn the rest of your names eventually. Instead I would like to introduce you to today's subject."

Lupin stepped aside and pulled a curtain away, revealing a wardrobe that rumbled threateningly.

"Is there anyone who can tell me what a boggart is?"

Hermione's hand flew up in the air before anyone else's.

"Boggarts are amortal shape-shifters that often inhabit small dark spaces like trunks, cupboards and wardrobes. When they are released from their hiding place, they change into a person's worst fear, and the only way to make them go away is to force them to make you laugh instead. Since they always shift immediately no one knows what a boggart really looks like when he's alone. Oh, and it can help to be with more than one person to face a boggart, as that will confuse him. He won't know whose fear to turn into first."

"Very good, Miss…"

"Granger, Hermione Granger."

"5 points to Gryffindor for Miss Granger's correct and very complete answer. As you may have guessed, this wardrobe here contains a boggart. We will first learn the spell to repel them, and then we can practice."

They learned the spell, "Riddikulus", and the correct wand movement, and as soon as Lupin deemed everyone suitably prepared, he nodded. Crucie was very interested to see the worst fears of the people in her class…

Neville Longbottom was the first to have a go. Crucie eyed him with interest, which made the boy tremble even more.

"Ready?"

"Y-Yeah…"

The wardrobe opened, and the class was faced with… Professor Snape. Neville turned so pale Crucie thought he was going to faint. The boggart yelled with Snape's voice,

"Longbottom! 20 points from Gryffindor!"

Neville trembled, barely able to hold his wand, but then he bit his teeth and yelled.

"RIDDIKULUS!"

And in a flash, Snape was wearing women's clothes. Old-fashioned ladies' robes and a huge ugly hat with a taxidermy bird on it. Crucie –and the rest of the class- couldn't stop laughing as the boggart retreated back into the closet, giving a mighty impression of how Snape would walk on high heels. Even Lupin grinned behind his hand, before he said,

"Okay, next."

Crucie saw some classic fears like spiders, fire and the dark, and even an axe murderer; there was the Slytherin girl who was afraid of scorpions and the scrawny Gryffindor boy whose greatest fear was a tall man with a belt in his hand, who yelled about how he would beat some sense into him. That last one made Lupin frown and tell the boy to see him after class.

In general, the fears of her classmates were nothing special, although some were amusing. Pansy's boggart by example was a mirror that showed her as an ugly old hag. Theodore's boggart was weird though. It seemed at first that the boggart didn't show up, but Theodore's face was contorted as if he was experiencing something awful. He pronounced the counterhex more than once, but the creature didn't respond to it. Eventually Lupin went to stand next to the boy, making the boggart change into his greatest fear instead of Theodore's. The professor's fear was apparently some kind of white glowing globe that spat apart in thousands of shards when Lupin cast the spell. He put a hand on Theodore's shoulder and told the shaken boy to get back to his seat.

"Okay, I guess that's it for today's class. Is there anyone else who really wants to try this? We have time for one more try."

Crucie, among with some boys, raised her hand. Lupin looked curious at her.

"Very well, ladies first. Miss Black?"

Crucie stepped forward, wondering what her greatest fear might be. The wardrobe opened, and her eyes widened. On the floor lay her mother, who desperately tried to crawl away from a dementor that slowly took of his hood and uncovered his slimy grey head with nothing but a hole in it to suck out people's souls. Crucie was terrified at first, her eyes were burning with tears and she just couldn't move, couldn't even bring her wand out. But then there was something in the back of her head, a voice that sounded surprisingly much like Mr Slytherin, telling her not to let fear rule her, that she could rule fear instead. Right when Professor Lupin wanted to step in again, Crucie felt how she detached. She whispered, more to herself than to the boggart,

"Not my mother, you bastard."

The next thing they knew was an ear-piercingly high scream. For a fraction of a second, a strange thing that looked like a ghost with patches of burlap sewed into it was visible, before the wardrobe clapped close and didn't even rumble anymore.

There was a complete silence in the classroom, while Crucie tried to catch her breath. Great. Performed an illegal curse in class… again. She looked around, seeing that everyone stared at her. Professor Lupin seemed to be at loss of words as well. Rescue strangely enough came from the side of the Gryffindors. A boy she didn't know yelled out.

"Oh My GOSH! Black scared the boggart!"

Immediately the class responded with loud laughing, commenting and talking through each other. Lupin spoke up.

"Class dismissed. Mr Benedict, I want to talk to you. Miss Black, wait for me outside the classroom until I'm done with Mr Benedict."

Everyone went outside, and Crucie caught Hermione's look. She would want an explanation… Crucie hung around the classroom until half an hour later, when Freddy Benedict left the classroom with puffy red eyes from crying. She carefully knocked and entered.

"Miss Black. Please have a seat."

Crucie took a seat, observing the new professor. He had scars in his face, and he looked like he was used to fighting although his posture didn't really betray a lot of muscle. Something about him looked off, but she couldn't tell what it was.

"So… care to explain me what that was?"

"Apparently the boggart was scared of me."

"I can't know for sure of course, but I think you may have caused the first original boggart sighting since the creature was discovered. I don't mean to pry, but I certainly am curious as to what you did."

"I was angry with it… I guess that just came out."

Lupin nodded.

"Correct me if I'm wrong… so your fear is being kissed by a dementor, and you were angry because…"

"Because the boggart was exposing my weakness to the whole of the class."

Crucie sighed in relief for the fact that she looked a lot like her mother. Lupin nodded again.

"It is not impossible. Riddikulus is not the only spell that can repel boggarts as far as known, and all the spells that can are emotion-based. You must have very strong emotions then, that they can repel a boggart all by themselves…"

She felt a blush creep to her cheeks as she caught the suspicious gleam in the professor's eyes.

"Apparently so."

"What is your full name?"

"Crucio Carina Black."

"I see. You can go."

Suddenly, a thought came up in Crucie's mind.

"Professor Lupin… Boggarts are amortal, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are, why?"

"Do all kinds of amortal creatures respond in the same way to emotional spells?"

Professor Lupin frowned.

"I don't really know, it's not my area of expertise. Little is known about most amortal creatures in the first place. We do know that the Patronus charm, used to repel dementors, also affects boggarts… so possibly there is a connection. Interesting question, Miss Black… Any particular reason why you want to know?"

"Oh no, just wondering."

Crucie left the classroom, mentally making some notes in her Torture Registry. Boggarts? Check. And while she mentally cheered herself, another idea started to brew inside her subconscious…

**(Author's Notes)**

**Okay, first things first... Happy Birthday Wishes for TheSillyKitten! This chapter is dedicated to you!**

**Then, onto the informational part. Amortal creatures respond to emotion. I drew this conclusion thinking of what repels dementors (happy emotion) and what repels boggarts (humor, confidence, laughter...) and I hope it's not too unbelievable. The Cruciatus thrives on emotion too, so I figured that perhaps boggarts would respond to it as well. (I know things like righteous anger usually don't do the job when it comes to torture, but in the case of Crucie, they do. After all, Crucie always finds joy and pleasure in torture, no matter what the emotion fueling her curse is)**

**Also, the reason why no one has ever tried cruciating a boggart is because it's illegal to cruciate anything, and people who do use the curse usually do so for less research-y purposes than trying to see a boggart's real shape. Maybe no one ever even thought about testing the cruciatus on a boggart. Sometimes discoveries are right under our nose and still not made for ages!**

**Does anyone know what Theodore's boggart is or represents? Cookies for anyone who guessed!**

**Oh, and of course, as always...**

**PLEASE REVIEW! **

**I love reviews, all of them, even the negative ones. I just want to know what you think of what you read so I can improve my writing! **


	4. For Lack Of A Forked Tongue

Crucie's fame only grew. The rumour that she had scared a boggart back into hiding without a single word spread through the school faster than fiendfyre... As if people didn't already think she was frightening. She was the girl named after an Unforgivable, the girl who had befriended the ghost of Slytherin's monster, the girl who cursed everything in her way and more… It was quite the reputation. Crucie wondered if her parents would be proud of her if they would know. She let her hand run over her mother's pendant and recalled what Dumbledore had told her about them. Yes, she decided with a smirk, her mother would definitely be proud of her.

She was looking forward to going to Hogsmeade for the first time… She wanted to buy a couple new ingredients for the battery potion, and she hoped the local apothecary would be willing to sell the necessary items to her. After all, Hogsmeade was not Knockturn Alley. She estimated another three or four tries would be enough to determine the ingredient proportions of the potion for sure, but unfortunately she couldn't afford to blow anything up while at Hogwarts. Salazar's corridor was only good for theoretic work, because although the apparent blockage and notice-me-not-charm did wonders to keep nosy parkers out, the place was far too small and dim-lit to brew potions.

The person she ran into right before leaving to Hogsmeade though ruined her good mood.

"Yes, your permission slips were all handed in on time, you're all cleared to go. Stay in groups until you're sufficiently familiar with the town's layout, I do not want any of my house to get lost, it's bad enough the Gryffindors do that every year."

Crucie wanted to follow with the others, but a hand held her back.

"Crucio Black, you have detention with me."

Crucie's mouth fell open as she stared at her Head of House.

"But… But… I didn't do anything!"

"Miss Black, watch your words."

Crucie suppressed the need to cruciate professor Snape and sadly looked at the leaving people. Damn Snape… If she would run out of the necessary ingredients now, she would be stealing them from his storage room, Crucie vindictively mused. It wasn't that she could get to brew anything right away anyway, but the thought still gave her some satisfaction.

In the detention class, she expected to be scrubbing cauldrons. Instead, Snape just let her watch while he was brewing something.

"Professor, what have I done wrong to deserve detention on the Hogsmeade Weekend?"

"Apparently you're becoming quite famous among the students. Scaring a boggart is not an easy feat, I doubt it had been done before, actually."

"If they wouldn't be so narrow-minded concerning the dark arts they would be astonished of what there is still left to be learned about the world."

Severus Snape watched his best friend's niece scowl at the wall. She had always surprised him with being both ridiculously childish and surprisingly mature at the same time. He supposed that was what you got if you put Bellatrix' and Rodolphus' heritage together in the same person…

"Professor Lupin is familiar with the Black family tree, Miss… Black. He knows fairly well who carries that name and who doesn't, legally."

He let the words sink in. Crucie wanted to groan. Of course, that's why Lupin had eyed her suspiciously. He must have known she wasn't really a Black… Professor Snape continued.

"I have given you detention because you have once again succeeded in drawing attention to yourself like one of those Gryffindor fools would, making him start asking questions about you." The potion's master gave Crucie a piercing glare. "I don't have to explain in how many ways that is a bad thing, now do I?"

Crucie knew well enough why it was a bad thing. She could be putting the remnants of her family in danger with it, and that was really the very last thing she wanted to risk.

"For now Lupin will leave you alone, he owes me more than one favour. In return for the favour I have called in for you, you will be preparing ingredients for me the coming two weeks, every evening."

Crucie nodded. She knew favours were valuable assets; it seemed like a fair compensation. Professor Snape just shook his head, adding some final ingredients to his potion.

"Do I have to repeat myself in full again, or is it clear that you are not to cruciate anyone in public? Not boggarts, not my godson, not even the rats in the dungeon if someone can see you!?"

Crucie nodded, an embarrassed blush on her cheeks. She stared at her shoes and softly said.

"I apologize, Professor Snape."

"Apologies accepted on the condition that you will do some actual effort to keep your talent under control this time."

"I will, Professor."

"We'll see about that." He filled a glass vial with the strange blue potion he had been brewing and handed it to her. "Bring this to Professor Lupin. He will know what it means."

Confused, Crucie left the dungeons, holding the small vial. She wondered what it was, but she was smart enough not to touch, smell or -Merlin forbid- taste it. Salazar Slytherin loved to tell her horror stories of contemporaries of him that had met horrific ends in potions accidents, and she knew better than to disregard the portrait's lessons…

_(Pagebreak)_

Things happened, and Crucie got to deal with another bout of unfounded slander, this time for a name that wasn't even officially hers. Apparently the famed Sirius Black had intruded the castle and destroyed the Fat Lady's portrait, and that was enough to make anyone with the name "Black" look suspicious. Since no one knew how he had gotten into the castle, the only logical explanation (again, according to a few Hufflepuffs that really talked too loud for their own good) was that the resident Black had helped him in. After the past year Crucie was pretty used to dirty looks, whispering voices and subtle hexes under the table, but that didn't stop her from ranting.

"Why do they always gang up on me? What did I do that makes me the ultimate enemy of everyone? I mean, it's just like last year, they're doing it again! 'Something bad happens? Oh, it's probably Crucio.' Right?!"

Both Regina and the portrait of Slytherin listened to her, solemnly nodding while Crucie continued.

"It's not fair. I mean, I have detention with Snape for two weeks, I missed the first Hogsmeade Weekend, and everyone looks at me as if I've personally caused the Black Plague!"

_"Black Plague indeed."_

Regina chuckled at Crucie, who tried to look affronted but had to laugh as well eventually.

"And that's not all. I'm so close to a solution for the battery potion, you know, the Muggle tech project, and I can't continue to work on it! For one, Hermione is practically always occupied, I mean seriously, it's not normal how many classes she takes, and then there is the issue of exploding cauldrons to deal with..."

"Exploding cauldronsss?"

"Experimenting. Experience teaches me that the potion tends to explode whenever the ingredient proportions aren't right. I've done a lot of work in summer already, but the amounts of certain ingredients…" Crucie sighed. "I'll probably be able to find out the right proportions, but that will take more than one explosion and I can hardly blow up something inhere."

"That would indeed be unadvissssable."

Crucie sighed again and started making her homework.

_"I may have a solution, if Salazar will allow it of course."_

Both Crucie and Salazar looked up in surprise at the basilisk. The portrait hissed something and Regina answered.

_"That's what I thought of."_

Another hiss, and then Crucie got to hear the other part of the conversation again.

_"She can learn."_

Salazar sighed deeply and hissed something that sounded a lot like giving in to the snake ghost.

_"Thank you, Salazar."_

"I don't want to interrupt you or anything, but… I kind of have the feeling you two are talking about me and not telling me something important."

"Regina proposed that you use the Chamber for your experimentsss…"

Crucie's eyes widened.

"What? I… I would be honoured if you would let me in, but… I'm not a parselmouth and I can't really Imperius Harry Potter to take me in and out every time, can I?"

"Ssshe alssso proposed you would be taught the basssics of Parssseltongue."

If Crucie's eyes could have gone any wider, they would have.

"I… I thought you couldn't learn that..."

Salazar's portrait sighed.

"Normally you can't. Parssseltongue isss a language completely different from any human tongue. It hasss no particular grammar, vocabulary or rule-ssset and it isss a ssspoken language only, on top of that. To learn it isss extremely difficult asss it isss hard to make a connection between a sssentence in Parssseltongue and a sssentence in English. You however find yourssself in an interesssting possssition there, thanksss to Regina."

Suddenly it dawned upon Crucie. Slightly in awe at the plan, she whispered.

"Synchronic translation."

"I sssuppose that'sss what they call it thessse daysss. Either way, you hear Regina'ssss Englissssh with your mind and her native ssspeak with your earsss. Practice ssshould enable you to make a connection between the two."

Crucie didn't know what to say. She had never even considered the possibility, because for all she knew Parseltongue was an inborn ability. Even more, it was an inborn ability the descendants of Slytherin were very proud and protective of, if history books were any good on the subject.

"And… you don't mind?"

Salazar granted her one of his rare smiles.

"I recall telling you of my dessscendantsss, There are few parssselmouthsss left in thisss age… It would pain me greatly if thisss ability would disssappear. Besssidesss, I sssstill needed to give you a Chrissstmass gift. Your sssilly traditionsss have ssstarted to rub off on me after all."

If you could hug a portrait, Crucie would have done so.

"Thank you so much!"

"You'll curssse me sssoon, Misss Lestrange… It will mosssst likely be the hardessst thing you'll ever learn."

_"Ah Salazar, don't discourage her already! It will be hard enough for her, not having a forked tongue."_

Crucie didn't know it was possible for a snake to look amused, but that was exactly the look on Regina's face.

"A forked tongue?"

Regina flashed her own tongue at Crucie and laughed.

_"Oh Strange Pain, I'll pester you this year until your tongue sounds at least a little forked!"_

Crucie wondered whether or not that was a good thing…

**(Author's Notes)**

**Okay. Sue me. I'm teaching Crucie some Parseltongue. It came to me suddenly that perhaps it wasn't completely unlikely that she could learn it, thanks to her connection to Regina. I hope you agree on that assessment. **

**Further, Crucie does not get to go to Hogsmeade, courtesy of Severus Snape. Just because he can. **

**I would write longer author's notes, but my head is all fuzzed and I'm not really able to think of much atm. Therefor I end with what I normally end: PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE!? I need reviews, especially when I add something unusual to the story, so I know I'm not making Crucie a Mary Sue. Still my biggest nightmare, people!**


	5. Irony Is A Big Black Dog

It turned out that no, Regina's pestering was not a good thing. Not even remotely. Regina took her task very seriously after all, following Crucie everywhere the girl went, hissing at her constantly and urging her to listen to the snake-speech more than to the mental translation. In the evenings Crucie was obliged to meditate and remember as much of the day's conversation as possible. Apart from the fact that being followed by a basilisk ghost wasn't the best way to make oneself popular –even when said ghost tried to stay in the pipes for the most part- there was also a strong laughter-and-headache inducing effect involved. Headache, because the concentration Regina demanded every single second was just plain painful on Crucie's brain cells, and laughter, because the snake's incessant comments on everything and everyone were absolutely hilarious. And then there was the ongoing feud between her and Mad Myrtle.

"I KNOW SHE IS HERE!"

"Myrtle, please calm down! I agreed to let you into my classroom only if you would cooperate and not disturb the lectures, remember?"

"It's that RUDDY SNAKE again!"

Regina indignantly stuck her head through the classroom wall, hissing at Myrtle and making the students yelp.

_"I am not ruddy!"_

Professor Binns was more than a little shocked. The colour of his face gave new meaning to the concept of ghostly pallor.

"Err…"

"I TOLD YOU! That's the BITCH that KILLED ME!"

_"I am not a bitch, you infertile hatchling! Why don't you throw insults at someone your own size?"_

While the class was in disarray, Crucie almost fell off her chair laughing. If only the rest of the class could understand the serpent… She whispered, hoping that Regina could hear her.

"If you don't watch out you'll make Binns die a second time…"

_"That might just be an improvement."_

Regina had apparently learned to understand English somewhere along the way –Crucie didn't know how and she hadn't gotten to ask yet- but she was physically incapable of speaking anything other than Parseltongue. It was a pity, Crucie thought, that no one understood her but she, Harry Potter and the portrait of Slytherin.

As once again a History of Magic lesson got suspended because of Ghostly Intervention, Crucie decided she needed a bit of fresh, basilisk-free air. Luckily for her there was a Quidditch match planned in the afternoon. She didn't particularly care for Quidditch, but she really needed to be away from Regina's incessant "lessons" for a bit and set her mind on something that wasn't learning that damned language. The serpent was great, but there was something like a Parseltongue-overload too. Perhaps Salazar had been right and she would soon curse him and Regina for offering to teach her…

It was raining awfully hard, but it felt nice to be outside. Crucie didn't really watch the game; she just sat on one of the top row seats and enjoyed the silence in her head with her eyes closed. It wasn't until suddenly there was screaming on the field that she opened her eyes and actually observed what was going on. Apparently Potter had fallen off his broom thanks to a couple… Dementors. Crucie felt a sense of dread creep on her. What she wouldn't do to eradicate those horrors from the world… More alert now, she looked around her, and spotted a large black dog in the top seats, not so far from her.

"Hey, how did you end up here?"

Crucie knew that animals never took a particular liking to her, with the exception of Timor, so she didn't expect the dog to come near her at all. He looked scruffy and meagre when he approached her, and Crucie couldn' help but take pity on him.

"Damn, you look hungry…"

She felt in her robe pockets and found a bread roll she had taken from the breakfast table. It was a little squished, but the dog didn't appear to care.

"Here, for you."

The dog happily wolfed up the roll of bread and Crucie smiled, scratching him behind his ears.

"So, you're not afraid of me? You're the first dog that doesn't run away when seeing me, really. I'm notoriously bad with animals."

He perked up his ears and looked at her as if he understood her. Crucie smiled a little wider now.

"Weird huh? I mean, it's not like I look very threatening, now do I?"

The dog shook his head, and Crucie laughed.

"It's almost as if you understand me… You know what, if you listen to me I'll bring you food. You can be my therapist then; I've heard that muggles pay people like that to listen to them rant. Would you be okay with that?"

Crucie smiled sadly at herself. How low she had fallen for trying to bribe a fucking dog into listening to her troubles… Yet a week of parseltongue class had made it slightly impossible for her to talk to anyone; Salazar and Regina would teach her, Daphne was slightly apprehensive of Regina and not her favourite conversation partner anyway, and Hermione appeared to be taking more classes than physically possible, making her almost always unavailable. The black dog didn't appear to mind Crucie's bribery very much, if anything he looked elated at the prospect of more food.

Crucie ranted on, lightening the load on her heart by telling the dog about her troubles, about Regina and Salazar, about her experiments, about the unfairness of everyone always thinking she was the culprit of the day's crime, and last but not least about the problem of Sirius Black.

"You know, the students are really ridiculous." She said while rubbing the animal's back. "Sirius Black didn't kill those muggles, it was Peter Pettigrew. I mean, I can only tell you because you can't tell anyone else; it's this big secret that Pettigrew set him up. If anything I think it's a shame. My uncle says Pettigrew is a horrible coward and a creep, while I don't think anyone of the Black family could be honestly all that awful. A bit deluded perhaps, but according to my other uncle heritage will always defeat delusion. Or something like that, uncle Lucius tends to ramble a bit when he's going on about heritage, it's his pet topic."

Crucie found some candy in another robe pocket and also fed it to the dog, which she now noticed was growling a bit.

"Don't like me talking about Sirius Black? I understand, you know. You've probably heard enough about him to last a lifetime if you hang around here for a day."

She realized the Quidditch match was practically over, so she excused herself.

"It was nice talking to you, Mr Black Dog. I would give you a better name, but… you know what, I'm just going to call you Mr Black. What do you think?"

The dog gave an affirmative bark and Crucie laughed.

"Ironic, no? Anyway, I have to head back inside, I have a basilisk and a portrait waiting to give me a reprimand… If you come here tomorrow as well, I'll see if I can bring you some more food, kay?"

Again the dog barked. It was rather unusual for a dog to behave so… human, Crucie mused. But then, she had never really put much study in the behaviour of dogs, so she couldn't really tell.

**(Author's Notes)**

**Insert Sirius Black! So, I got a lot of questions from people wondering whether Crucie and Sirius would meet, and whether or not they would like each other... well, here you have your answer! Because Sirius is in his dog form he gets to see a side of Crucie he wouldn't have seen had he been in his human form... and we all know how likable Crucie is when given the chance. So no, they won't hate each other (will be important later on, hint hint!) but as is to be expected, they won't exactly be friends either. **

**I know, it's a short chapter. I had to cut up a larger chapter because it was seriously too big, so now there's two smaller chunks. I promise to post them with only one day in between, to make up for it. **

**Also, I do research for this fic -for all my fics actually- and I just want to point out that by now I know the Harry Potter canon better than my textbooks. Oh, and if anyone who writes LoTR fan fiction reads this... *begin rant* ACCENTS! WHY THOSE ACCENTS! THEY SLOW ME DOWN! I HATE THEM! *end rant* Sorry, that just had to get out.**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**I keep saying this, but your reviews are what makes me write. I love to write, but seeing that people read and possibly also enjoy my writings warms my heart like nothing else. I aim to please, so if you have complaints or questions please let me know! **


	6. Nott A Sense Of Humor

After a little chat with Salazar's portrait about Regina and the Parseltongue-lessons, they came to a more workable agreement. Regina would use all Crucie's spare time to teach, but she wouldn't be in all classes and not cause trouble, as long as Crucie tried her best to follow her instructions and practiced meditation every evening. Also, detentions would be free of parseltongue. It was an enormous relief for Crucie, and for the rest of her year –especially for the few who were afraid of snakes- as well. She could finally hear herself think again, most of the time…

"Ah, Miss Black. One minute later and I would have taken points from you. As you can see I made a list of ingredients I want you to prepare for next class. Work quickly and clean up any mess you might make. Mr Nott here is working as well; do not disturb him. I have an appointment with the Headmaster, I will be back in time to check on your work so don't dare to sneak out early."

Crucie sighed. It was a relief to be without Regina's voice in her head, but if anything the snake had made Snape's obligatory ingredient preparing sessions a lot less tedious. It was supposedly only a week, but eventually he had admitted that he wanted to keep an eye on her and made them a permanent feature on her roster. It wasn't fair, but Crucie knew she was hardly in the position to complain.

She started cutting the bat spleens that were first on the list and peeked meanwhile at Theodore Nott, who was sitting on the other side of the class, writing. It took her only five minutes of cutting gooey mess before she decided to distract herself with conversation.

"Ey, Teddy? Got detention as well?"

"Leave me alone, Black."

He mumbled. Crucie raised an eyebrow.

"Come on, we're both stuck here all evening. We can just as well talk."

"I am not stuck here, I choose to be here. Didn't Snape tell you to leave me alone?"

"So? It's not as if I'm that good at following orders."

Theodore just huffed and ignored her. Crucie frowned and cursed him, smiling satisfied when the unexpected pain caused him to make an ugly smear on his parchment. He turned at her with a frustrated expression on his face.

"What is your fucking problem, Black?"

There was something strange in his eyes, not anger or pain, but something that Crucie couldn't place too well.

"I just wanted to distract myself a bit, that's all."

"Torture someone else. It's not my fault that you're having detention."

Crucie finished cutting the bat spleens and continued the list with powdering the dragon claw Snape had put out for her.

"If you don't have detention, what are you doing here?"

Theodore ignored her, and Crucie sighed. Rolling her eyes she remarked.

"You know, you might just as well tell me now because I'll get it out of you either way."

"And you are surprised that you don't have friends."

"I do have friends!"

"Ghosts don't count. And neither does Pansy, because no one really wants to be her friend, voluntarily."

Crucie couldn't help but snort.

"You know Teddy, you're actually quite funny when you're not hanging around with Malfoy."

"In case you didn't notice, I don't hang around with Malfoy. I leave that to Crabbe and Goyle, they're better lackey material."

"See, you did it again! Theodore Nott, you have a sense of humour!"

"Ha ha."

He turned back to his writing again, but Crucie knew she had finally gotten to him when he said, his back to her still, "And by the way, it's Theo. Not Teddy, not Theodore, not Dora. Just Theo."

"Who the hell calls you Dora?"

"Who do you think?"

"Right. Blond and arrogant."

"Give the lady a prize."

Crucie laughed again.

"Theo, I think I misjudged you. Sorry for torturing you. Won't do it again."

The boy turned and looked suspiciously at Crucie.

"Can you blame me that I don't believe you?"

"Not really, no. Either way, are you going to tell me what you're here for?"

"I'm interested in becoming a Potions Master later on, so Snape gives me extra assignments to prepare me."

Crucie couldn't help but be in awe at that. If Professor Snape wanted to put effort in helping him then he had to be really talented…

"Wow, that's… pretty awesome, actually. I have no clue what I want to do after school yet. The only things I like to do are either illegal or unethical or both."

"Hasn't stopped our parents, has it?"

Theo smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes when he said that. Crucie knew that Mr Nott had gone to Azkaban because his wife testified against him in the Death Eater Trials after the war.

"Your dad, he's…"

"Yep. At least my mom's still home."

"Would you… you know, follow in their footsteps? If the opportunity presented itself, I mean."

Theo shook his head.

"Not ever. I… I don't…" Eventually he rolled his eyes. "You know what Black, just drop it. I know you would do perfectly in your mom's footsteps. Being crazy and all."

Crucie threw one of the freshly cut bat spleens at him, and it landed in the middle of his parchment with a satisfactory splotch. Indignantly he frowned at her.

"What the hell Black?"

"Don't insult my mom. She's no worse than your father and I don't go insulting him, now do I?"

Theo threw his slimy parchment in the bin and took another one to restart his assignment. Crucie wondered if he had realized that she had not cruciated him…

"Maybe you should…" He mumbled barely audible. She didn't really know what to say to that. There were a few minutes of silence, in which Crucie finished powdering the dragon claws and put the moonstone in her mortar instead.

"Are you ashamed of your dad, Theo?"

"What's it to you, Black?"

"It's Crucie. And tell me, why are you ashamed of your father?"

Theo turned and looked fiercely in her direction, hazel eyes filled with something very alike hatred.

"You have no idea what you're talking about. Every time I see my mother I remember that she's the one who condemned my dad to Azkaban. I want to hate her, Black. I want to hate her so badly because she left him on his own in that mess and betrayed him! And yet I can't help but feel grateful that she did what she did because that's the only reason I still have her. My family isn't high up in the ministry; they wouldn't have gotten off as easily as the Malfoys. If she hadn't testified against him she would have gone to Azkaban as well and I would have gone to fucking foster care for all I know. You have no fucking idea what it's like, Black!"

Crucie hadn't expected the verbal waterfall, but she felt anger build up when the boy accused her of not understanding. Unknowingly to her, her eyes flared red and her voice resounded strangely ominous.

"So I don't have an idea? I have lost both my parents but I have no idea? I see how my aunt misses her sister but I have no idea? I see how my uncle misses his brother but I have no idea? Who the fuck do you think you are, Theodore Nott, that you think you have the exclusive right to miss people?! We have all lost our family in that stupid war, Theo. Don't act as if you're the only one with a fucking cross to bear!"

Suddenly, a vase close to Theo just exploded, that sort of snapped Crucie back into her usual state. She had tried very hard not to curse Theodore, but the curse had to go somewhere so she had cursed the vase instead. The boy was struck into silence, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Remind me not to make you angry again."

Crucie couldn't help but crack a smile at that.

"Sorry."

"No, you're… you're right."

"Do you mean that?"

"I… I think I do."

That was the moment Crucio Black and Theodore Nott both gave up on the hostilities and began talking like civilized people. Theo told her about his assignment, and even helped her with preparing some of the ingredients, and in turn Crucie told him about her summer, and the boggart, and she even offhandedly mentioned muggle technology just to see his reaction. That reaction was surprisingly moderate for a former lackey of Draco Malfoy, Crucie thought. When Snape came to check on them, they were both working quietly… although the professor had been quite certain that they had been sitting farther apart when he had left…

_(Pagebreak)_

Crucie's days were full. Even though the students still regarded her as some kind of criminal, Crucie found that she had too little time to worry about it all. There were the usual classes, her parseltongue-lessons with Regina and Salazar, and the "detentions" for Snape in the evening, which she spent with Theodore Nott. When she needed air she just headed out to the Quidditch pitch with a plate of food and fed the scruffy black dog that hung around on the school terrain. Even when he wasn't in sight she left the plate there, knowing that he would find it anyway. She had nothing to complain about except perhaps the hatred of some students –mostly Hufflepuffs, so much for those being friendly, kind-nature people… more like the worst slanderers of Hogwarts- but she did miss Hermione. It appeared that Hermione wasn't on speaking terms anymore with neither Harry Potter nor the Weasley Twat, and she wondered what was going on. At long last, she managed to corner the girl in library.

"Hey Mione."

"Oh! Hi Crucie."

Crucie smiled.

"I haven't really spoken to you since the beginning of the year, what the hell have you been doing?"

Hemione bit her lip.

"Studying…"

Crucie sat herself down at Hermione's table and checked the timetable that was lying on it.

"Is this yours?"

"Err… Yeah, can I have it back?"

"Mione, how can you have three classes on the same hour? You follow Arithmancy, Ancient Runes AND Muggle Studies all at 15h30?"

"It's… It's nothing, just a mistake…"

Crucie raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, be like that. Just know that you're not the only one with important things to hide…"

"Oh?"

"Secret for a secret."

Hermione looked at her friend and recognized that very sly Slytherin look. It made her smile; she had missed Crucio Black, even more now that Harry and Ron were both ignoring her.

"Not here."

"The corridor, after lunch. Hope you're not afraid of snakes!"

"About that…"

"Not here!"

**(Author's Notes)**

**A quick update, as promised! I liked this chapter... Theodore Nott will become a more important character in this and the coming books. I know that his "information outburst" wasn't entirely realistic perhaps, but I just had to find a way to let you know about it; Theo's family situation will be important later on... **

**Note to TheSillyKitten: no, I did not repeat myself with the phrase "more ... than physically possible" in the last chapter; I checked. I checked the entire document with Word Search, and I've used it only once. So nah. xD**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**I really want to know what you think of my writings... it's very important to me! Make my day and let me know something! Please? ;)**

**Any questions, just ask and they will be answered!**


	7. Snakes Talk About Sex And Food

"So, Potter and Weasley ignore you over a broom and a rat, the groundkeeper's pet is possibly going to be killed and you've gotten… a time turner?"

Hermione blushed as she showed the small golden device to Crucie.

"McGonagall gave it to me, because I'm the… the best student in at least fifty years, she said."

Crucie patted her friend on the shoulder and grinned.

"I'd say congratulations, but I don't really see how three times the amount of homework is a reward…"

"If I keep it up, I might take far more NEWTs than most people, which would certainly guarantee me a good ministry job."

"You want to work at the ministry?"

Hermione nodded.

"Yeah… I really hate how the wizarding world treats magical creatures; I would love to do something about it but change has to come from the inside."

"So, you're infiltrating the enemy territory?"

"Exactly."

Crucie nodded pensively. Hermione was the second person she spoke to who had rather definite plans for the future… Crucie felt almost ashamed that she had never thought any further than the next summer of playing around at Borgin And Burke's. Hermione broke through her thoughts.

"So, secret for a secret. What's yours?"

"I'm learning Parseltongue."

"What? That's an inborn ability, you can't learn that!"

"On the contrary, Missss Granger… If anyone can learn to massster it, it will be Misss Black."

Salazar Slytherin had arrived in his portrait, and with him came Regina, who stuck her head through the wall and playfully hissed at Crucie.

_"Ah, there is my student! I almost thought you had escaped again!"_

"I'm just having a chat with Hermione."

_"Oh, right. Salazar told me about her. She is your mudblood friend, no?"_

From anyone else it would have been an insult, but Regina just used the word she always used. It was a translation thing, and sometimes Crucie wondered if the term originally stemmed from parseltongue translation. Hermione was dumbstruck.

"Y-You… understand her?"

Crucie grinned.

"You've missed a whole lot, you know! I understand her. Hermione, I present you Regina, Mr Slytherin's familiar. Regina, this is Hermione Granger. I call her Mione."

_"Nice to meet you, Shionne. I hope you have not suffered too badly under our previous encounter."_

"What does she say?"

"She apologized for petrifying you. Sort of."

There was a lot to catch up about, but now they were finally talking it all came easily. Crucie promised herself she wouldn't let herself and Hermione drift apart a third time, and wondered what her uncle might say or do if she invited her over for the summer…

_(Pagebreak)_

_Dear Uncle,_

_I'm enjoying my time at Hogwarts, but I miss you very much. Thank you for that picture of you with a fake moustache you sent me, it never fails to make me laugh on a dreary morning. In all honesty, it never fails to make me laugh, period._

_I have made a new friend, I think. Remember little Teddy Nott with his rabbit teeth? He's grown out quite a bit, not little at all anymore. He's also developed a great sense of humour over the years, and goes by the name Theo these days. He still has rabbit teeth (a bit), but I can live with that. ;) _

_Regina and Myrtle continue their never-ending row, crossing barriers of species and language when it comes to throwing insults at each other. Professor Binns is mostly caught in the crossfire and ever since we haven't had more than half a lesson of History of Magic. If it continues like this Binns may finally decide to retire, yay!_

_I have a question though. A lot of my friends already have plans for what to do after graduation, whereas I don't really have a solid idea. I just want to continue doing what I'm good at and get better through research and practice! If anything, I KNOW people on Knockturn would pay good money for my skills. I know I still have time to choose, but I wondered if that would be okay with you._

_All my love,_

_Crucio_

_(Pagebreak)_

Now that Hermione wasn't on speaking terms with neither of her usual friends, she and Crucie had much more time to hang out. Unfortunately Hermione was always working on something else too.

"Now what are you actually doing?"

"Preparing the legal defence of a friend."

"What?"

Hermione sighed.

"Didn't I tell you? Hagrid's hippogriff has injured your git of a cousin, and now there's a court case coming up for the Committee For The Disposal Of Dangerous Creatures. I wish there was more that I could do, but… well, since Malfoy totally overplayed his injury there's little we can do, I'm afraid. Not that I expect you to care or anything… But you asked… I'm rambling, sorry."

Crucie shook her head.

"You've been sleeping way too little. Are you sure that whole time turner thing is a good idea? And why wouldn't I care? I mean, it's not because I like to torture that I condone needlessly killing people. Or hippogriffs, for that matter."

Hermione looked surprised.

"I clearly don't know you very well…"

Crucie grinned.

"We can change that! Would you like to hang out in the holidays?"

Hermione's mouth fell open.

"But… but… your uncle…"

"Is one of the coolest people I know. He'll like you, I'm sure."

"I don't know…"

"Just think about it, we could have so much fun!"

"I'll think about it."

_(Pagebreak)_

_"Come on Strange Pain, give it a try!"_

Crucie sighed and looked pleadingly at the portrait of Slytherin, wordlessly asking for help. Unfortunately, the portrait just gave her a sly look and refrained from interfering. She gathered all her courage and hissed something that had to pass for an introduction of herself in Parseltongue. She had only just finished when both Salazar and Regina let out a hissing laugh.

"What? What did I say?"

Salazar chuckled behind his hand.

"Ssssomething among the linesss of dessscribing yourssself asss a proper meal."

_"It was better than last time, when you said your eggs needed a virile male."_

Crucie scowled.

"How is it that every phrase in Parseltongue can be alternately interpreted as either about food or sex?"

_"We're snakes. Most of our conversations are either about food or sex by nature."_

"I don't think I'll ever get the hang of this, really. How can a single sound mean so much?"

_"You know, you're thinking too much. That's your problem little hatchling. Language is instinct, even for you with your non-forked tongue. Does a sound in your language not have many meanings?"_

Crucie had to admit the snake ghost was right… She never thought about English in the same way as Parseltongue, but there were similarities nevertheless. The foremost was that they were both collections of sounds to which meaning got attributed. Only she still thought the difference between one hiss and another was a lot more elusive than the difference between an A and a B…

"This is far harder than anything I've ever done."

"I told you it wassss going to be the hardessst thing you'd ever learn, didn't I?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know…"

_"Don't despair, Strange Pain… You're most promising for having the tongue that you do. At least you're understandable, if not exactly coherent."_

"Thank you Regina, that really made me feel so much better."

The snake laughed.

_"Always happy to please, my little hatchling. Now tell me, how are you doing with that delectable male I've seen around you in potion's class? God's Night, most unusual boy. Don't your eggs scream for his virility?"_

Crucie blushed tomato red.

"Regina! I'm only thirteen damn you! And Theo is simply a friend, I can't believe you brought up that comment again!"

Crucie tried to remain indignant, but it was very hard. Salazar had, after all, warned her for the general inappropriateness of his basilisk friend.

_"No really, he's tall for his age, a little gangly maybe but he'll fill up yet, and he's intelligent… Oh, and I happen to know first-hand that your eggs won't need to fear for lack of virility concerning him…"_

Of course Regina would spy on the boys in the showers. Even while blind the promise of wet and wanking boys would probably get her coils in a fuss; Crucie shivered slightly. She really didn't need to know certain things about her male housemates; it was ridiculous how much that famed "mental eye" of the basilisk actually saw.

"Tsss… Regina dear, no need to be sssso crude to your ssstudent…"

"Thank you very much Mr Slytherin."

Crucie was rather fond of the basilisk –people as well as snakes tended to grow on you when they had a habit of following you around- but sometimes the incessant innuendos coming from her were more than a little annoying. She wondered when she would be able to face Theo again without wondering about the size of his "wand". Probably never. Damn that snake.

**(Author's Notes)**

**A new chapter! Yay! We have Crucie trying Parseltongue (and it's not easy!), Regina being her usual pervy self, and Hermione worrying about Buckbeak the Hippogriff. I hope it satisfies! **

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**I love your reviews, I want them, I need them! It's what makes this whole venture worthwhile, you know. I love writing, but I love seeing people read it even more. Feed my muse, please leave a comment!**


	8. To Chop Off Heads For A Living

Hermione was in a foul mood, and Crucie knew why.

"Let me guess. The hippogriff is going down."

Hermione glared at her friend.

"You are too cheery for my taste. Go away."

"Seriously _Shionne,_ it's not the end of the world."

"What did you just call me?"

"_Shionne_. It's the closest thing to your name that is pronounceable in Parseltongue. Regina makes me practice at every given opportunity. Tongue training, she calls it. And yes, all possible innuendo's concerning tongues have already passed the revue."

Despite her indignation and mood, Hermione grinned. Crucie often translated the crude-mouthed basilisk ghost for her, and the mostly fairly obscene comments were always a source of laughter.

"So, what is your name in Parseltongue then?"

_"Strange Pain._ It's a literal translation of my name, actually. Parseltongue is very literal in most things."

"It's such a pity you and Harry hate each other. I bet he would love to have someone else to chat with besides You-Know-Who. Not that they chat of course, but you know what I mean."

"If he would pull the stick from his arse I would like him better. Really, he's almost as conceited as my cousin, in a more Light-Wizard-Saviour kind of way."

Hermione frowned, clearly displeased at Crucie's comment about her friend.

"Don't insult Harry, he's a great person. If only there were more people like him the ministry wouldn't have to hire dirtbags like that Macnair."

"Macnair? Walden Macnair?"

Crucie remembered Macnair vaguely. She remembered he had a moustache she used to pull when sitting on his lap. He had been on the group portrait picture as well, talking to Antonin Dolohov. He was technically family of hers.

"You know him? He's Buckbeak's executioner. Known death eater, but apparently the ministry needs shits like him to do their dirty work… It'll happen tonight."

Crucie didn't like that Hermione spoke like that about her family, especially not since it was she who had scolded her for badmouthing Harry, but she understood. After all, it was her friend who would lose his pet to one of her family members, a bit of badmouthing was to be expected. She shrugged.

"Someone's got to do it."

"If they would be honest and give all magical creatures equal rights and equal chances, they wouldn't need executioners."

"Don't be foolish. Every society needs executioners, simply because every society has boundaries. No boundaries, that means anarchy, not society. When there is a boundary, you will have people overstepping it, and some will go too far to ever step back. That's simply human nature."

"Human nature just can't be so… so…"

"So what? Depraved? Evil? It's only evil because you call it that. Who are we to divide between right and wrong, light and dark? What use is it anyway?"

"What use? To discern between right and wrong is what makes us human, that's the use!"

"You're only fooling yourself if you think that sort of divide will change what we are inside. No one is only dark or only light. There is only the use that people, boundaries and morals have in a certain context."

Hermione realized they had ventured into the territory they once had promised never to tread in. Politics, ethics, morals… The cold and strangely mature opinion of Crucio Black was slightly frightening. She knew that if they continued this, she would be forced to lash out because something about that mind-set just rubbed her the wrong way. It was upsetting and she was upset enough as it was.

"Can we stop talking about this? I mean… please? Just agree to disagree or something? Since we wouldn't discuss politics and all…"

Crucie smiled brightly, her cold demeanour all forgotten.

"Oh sure. No politics, I remember now. Just got carried away a bit. Anyway, I spoke to Theo lately and he had this interesting theory on…"

Their conversation continued at the usual leisurely pace, but Crucie didn't forget the mention of Walden Macnair. She wondered if he would recognize her still…

_(Pagebreak)_

Standing in the cold night air, her cloak wrapped around her trying to retain a little body heat, Crucie wondered if this had been such a good idea. For all she knew she wouldn't even get a chance to talk to Walden Macnair… Her fears were unneeded though, because suddenly she heard a dark and slightly grating voice behind her.

"Well well, who's out spying tonight huh? Ickle Hogwarts student alone in the cold?"

Crucie turned around and was met with a face half-covered under a black executioner's mask. Macnair.

"Mr Macnair?"

"How do you know…" She could see his eyes widen a bit under the mask. "No, it can't be… Bella's brat?"

Crucie grinned, and as a result the nasty looking executioner pulled her in for a rather suffocating bear hug.

"Can't… breathe…"

He let go of her, still looking absolutely baffled.

"How is it possible? I thought… No one ever heard from you again after… I thought they'd given you up for adoption or something!"

"Nothing like it. Living with my uncle at the moment."

"Now what are you doing here in the cold?"

"I heard you were coming over for an execution, and I wanted to see you. It's not often that I get the chance to see my family after all. I wondered if you remembered me."

"Remember you? You are as unforgettable as unforgivable, Crucio Lestrange! I haven't seen anyone of you lot besides Crabbe and Goyle, and you know how those are."

Crucie chuckled.

"Yeah, I know. I'm in the same house as their progeny after all, and those are not much better."

Macnair laughed raspingly. He wasn't the prettiest of death eaters, more likely one of the uglier specimen, but looks weren't everything and he was all but as stupid as Crabbe and Goyle. Rabastan had often said about those two that it was good the Unforgivables didn't require much special wandwork, or else they wouldn't even be capable of that.

"I'm required at the scene over there… The minister and that old coot are there, big thing it is. You'd think it's the last of a species that I'm about to kill."

Crucie snorted, but then became serious.

"Mr Macnair…"

"Walden please. You used to call me Waldo when you were four, and I chop off heads for a living. No need to be so formal."

"I just wanted to ask if you could please make it quick. The execution I mean. It's not that I care so much for the beast, but my best friend was rather attached to that hippogriff, and it might soothe her a bit to know it didn't suffer too long."

Walden gave her a grim smile.

"Sure, I'll do my best. Make sure to tell your uncles hi from me, okay? Especially that brat Rabastan, how he ever managed to roam free I'll never know, the slippery bastard."

"I will."

"And now back to the castle with you before you catch pneumonia."

She got one last crushing hug –that man had really no idea of his strength- and then headed back to the castle, while Macnair set to sharpening his blades.

**(Author's Notes)**

**Another short chapter for my lovely reviewers! Crucie's opinions on executioners etc... I know, they're a little weird. She doesn't believe that there is a measure for good and evil that is not somehow determined by circumstances and power. Which is a point of view I support, by the way. ;)**

**Walden Madnair immediately recognizes her, because the resemblance Crucie has to her mother is really quite striking and Macnair knew Bellatrix when she was Crucie's age. Yay for family reunions!**

**PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! **

**I have been generally distracted by A) plotbunnies, B) exams, and C) Doom... So I need a little extra encouragement to keep writing! Please indulge me? I give you cookies! :3**


	9. Party Past Curfew, With Dementors

On the way back she noticed something strange was happening around the Whomping Willow. Why anyone would voluntarily hang around that violent tree was a mystery to Crucie, but it was clear that something was going on there. She could hear screaming, and as she came closer she saw that something was trying to pull the Weasley Twat into a hole under the tree. When the redheaded boy was finally gone she saw Harry Potter and Hermione follow suit into the hole. The normally evil tree was not moving at all. Intrigued, Crucie followed them. She was done with being kept out of the loop by Hermione, this time she would be a part of whatever secret thing they were doing. Also, from what she had heard the Weasel was in pain, and she could never pass up a chance to see that bastard in agony, inflicted by her or not.

Crucie crawled through the tunnel, and found herself… in a rather rundown house, where a group of people were holding someone at wandpoint.

"Morgana's tits! What did I miss this time?"

Hermione turned around in surprise.

"Crucie!"

From the floor, a pained Ron Weasley yelled.

"FUCK! That BITCH! She's his accomplice!"

Crucie lifted herself probably from the tunnel/hatch/hiding space, and dusted off her robes.

"Fuck you and your meagre ass Weasley. Now what the fuck are you guys doing here?"

Crucie had taken over Rabastan's bad habit of excessive cussing when stressed, and being around the likes of Regina and Salazar hadn't exactly helped that. Both snake and portrait were rather foulmouthed after all. An unknown male voice chuckled dryly.

"Language, dear cousin."

"I told you! I TOLD YOU! HARRY TAKE THAT BITCH!"

Crucie turned at Ron with raised eyebrows.

"Call me a bitch one more time and I cruciate your fucking brains out."

That seemed to shut Ron up, if only in righteous indignation. Just a little later he passed out. Crucie felt herself hoping that the nasty fracture of his leg would get infected with Tanzanian bonelarves and that in three weeks Weasley would be nothing but a puddle of organs. Unfortunately she couldn't ponder much longer over possible ways to end that horrible redhead's life. She turned at the scruffy looking man held at wandpoint by Harry Potter, who had addressed her as a cousin.

"Sirius Black?"

"You're the splitting image of your mother, you know."

It was all a bit confusing. A bit very much confusing, to be completely honest.

"So I've been told."

The silence was awkward. Hermione looked at Crucie with a pleading look in her eyes.

"Please tell me you're not his accomplice. Please."

"Actually she is."

The man replied in Crucie's place. Crucie could almost see Hermione's trust in her break.

"Oh Crucie how COULD you?"

"She didn't know it though."

Something clicked in Crucie's head.

"You were that dog, weren't you? Oh my, I can't believe all the things I've told you!" Crucie felt her face flush. "I hate you! If you ever tell anyone then…"

"You'll cruciate me? I've lived in the same house as your mother, you know. It's becoming predictable."

Crucie's eyes flashed and suddenly Sirius Black was on his knees, face contorted in pain. It didn't take long for the man to scream, and Crucie relished at his pain for a few moments.

"Still think me predictable?"

She lifted the curse and looked at the others in the room, shrugging.

"What? Since he's going to spill my secrets anyway I can just as good make a show out of it."

She had shocked them all into silence. Black looked up from the floor and gave her a maniac look.

"I was wrong. You're not the splitting image of your mother… you're worse."

Crucie laughed happily.

"Thanks. You know, I've been wanting to talk to you ever since you escaped."

Sirius' eyes got a dangerous gleam to them.

"I can guess why."

Hermione was the first to come to senses.

"Crucie, what is this all about?"

"If only I knew. I've met Mr Black here, while he was masquerading as a big black dog. He was cute and hungry so I fed him, and I named him –Merlin bless irony- Mr Black. I've told him quite a lot about myself, because I thought he couldn't pass it on anyway. It turned out I was sorely mistaken."

Sirius let out a grating laugh, throat still hoarse from screaming.

"You can say that. You know what is funny? I know that you know I'm telling these two the truth. You told me after all."

"You mean about Pettigrew's setup?"

Harry's mouth dropped open.

"You… you know?"

Crucie nodded.

"Secrets are being spilled anyway. Yeah, I know. My uncle told me, said it was a pity. Pettigrew is a bastard. No matter what side you play for, you don't betray your friends, that's dishonourable."

"It… it can't be. Sirius Black betrayed my parents to Voldemort! He did it! Pettigrew is dead because he killed him!"

"Nope. You don't have to believe us, but that doesn't make it any less true."

At that moment, the hatch opened again and this time it was Hermione who shrieked.

"It's him!"

Professor Lupin. Great, now they were caught, at night, off schoolgrounds. Crucie wished she could disapparate already.

"Professor Lupin, it's Black, we have…"

_"Expelliarmus"_

Harry and Hermione's wand flew from their hands. Sirius Black smiled.

"Moony, that's been a while…"

"You look like shit, Padfoot."

"You're not much better."

Harry was shell-shocked, and Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times before sound came out.

"You're his accomplice. It was you all the time! You're a werewolf, a dark creature, and you're siding with him!"

Remus Lupin looked far more haggard than usual and he didn't object.

"I am a werewolf indeed, and I am on Sirius' side, that much is true. But as I'm sure he's tried to tell you, he is innocent."

"Why would I believe a werewolf?"

Harry scowled. Crucie fought the need to curse and rolled her eyes instead.

"Seriously. If this were a democracy you would be outnumbered by now. "

"Not exactly. I think Wormtail would want a vote too."

"Huh?"

"Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail and Prongs… do those names mean anything to you?"

Harry slowly nodded.

"The Marauder's Map…"

"We were the best of friends."

"We?"

"Sirius, your father, that rat and I. We were the marauders. We made that map. My lycanthropy, as miss Granger has pointed out, would have been a grave problem for anyone, but not for Dumbledore and not for them. Dumbledore let me complete my education, and he acquired the Shrieking Shack for me to roam in during my monthly transformations, and my friends… they studied for years until they managed to become animagi, capable of transforming into animals so they could accompany me and not have to fear me."

"But Sirius betrayed them."

"So I believed. But lately… I got the map from you, Harry… and on it I caught the name of someone who was supposed to be dead. Peter Pettigrew. That was what made my suspicions grow. He's here."

"What?"

Sirius snarled at Harry.

"That rat."

They would have continued, but then the hatch opened again. This time it was Snape. Crucie wondered what had happened to the universe. What the hell was she doing here? It was somewhat clear to her that the whole thing was revolving around Harry Potter once again. There was something in that boy that attracted trouble, it seemed. She decided to do them all a favour and stun Snape before he could do anything to them, but nevertheless she wasn't particularly interested in the story. She just didn't want to see Sirius carted of to Azkaban again before she had spoken to him. Or at all actually, she wouldn't wish Azkaban on her worst enemy. Not even on Weasley. Hermione's eyes widened.

"You… you stunned a professor!"

"Yeah, sue me. He was interrupting you guys. Please continue."

She zoned out during most of the talk about Harry's parents, she had little need to know those things. As a Slytherin she should be sly and listen to every detail to gather possible future blackmail material, but it was her suppressed Gryffindor that was acting up and made her stare at the ceiling instead. It wasn't until "the rat", Pettigrew, was forced back into his human form that she started to pay attention again. The pathetic, rattish man was begging them all for mercy, and Sirius looked ready to murder him.

"I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for."

Now that was finally going someplace good.

"James wouldn't want his best friends to become murderers, Sirius!"

"He is the one who killed your parents, Harry. HE did!"

Crucie coughed.

"Err, cousin, if you don't mind the interruption?"

"What?"

"Can I have a word with Mr Pettigrew first? I mean, I somewhat support the notion of not killing him, because… well, death's a bit too good for him in my opinion. Just my opinion, though... I'm sure I can do better than that."

Sirius Black's mouth twisted into a cruel grin.

"Give him your best, Lestrange."

And Crucie did. The screams of the man echoed through the Shrieking Shack, honouring the rumour of demonic spirits roaming the place. Hermione and Harry appeared completely in shock, and Crucie gave them her sweetest smile without stopping her torture.

"Trust me, if even a fraction of what my uncle told me is true, he really deserves it."

Crucie actually wanted to see how far she could go before the rat's mind would break irreversibly, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. It was Professor Lupin.

"If he is to live, he'll have to testify still. We can't have him completely incoherent."

So she lifted the curse, leaving the man on the floor in a puddle of his own urine, whimpering and drooling. She frowned.

"Yuck. That's just plain disgusting." She promptly scourgified the man, much to Sirius' amusement.

"You torture a man to piss himself and then you clean his mess?"

"I'm an experienced cleaner of messes. Even this kind of messes, every once in a while, after Cheap Liquor Tuesday in the Dragon's Breath."

Sirius shook his head, slightly disbelieving. He had known his cousin's daughter for a while now, listened to her stories, and he still found her a rather unbelievable person.

Hermione levitated Snape and Ron, and they made their way out of the Shrieking Shack, back to the school grounds. Crucie snuck a peek at Snape, and hoped that the shock might make him forget who exactly had stunned him. The odds were admittedly slight.

"Mr Black…"

The escaped convict looked at his cousin and sighed, knowing what the girl wanted to know. She didn't even have to ask.

"They're both still alive. I don't know much more. Your mother was always very vocal. Your father… never let out a single whimper, actually. Given Azkaban, I don't know what's worse."

Crucie paled.

"You will not go back there. I'll make it so."

Sirius gave her a dry laugh.

"Why would you do that? I'm disowned, shunned by your family. Surely you should know that."

"Not even my worst enemy deserves Azkaban. There is torture, Cousin Sirius, and there is a complete lack of respect and human dignity. My family may shun you for reasons I don't really get, and if it's true that you bullied Snape then you're kind of an asshole, but that doesn't change my opinion on Azkaban. It is a fate worse than... anything, really."

Their conversation got broken up by an agonizing scream, coming from Professor Lupin. They looked up to the sky, and got stared in the face by a glowing full moon. Sirius' eyes widened.

"Shit."

Before her eyes Crucie got to see the painful transformation of man to monster, and it was quite entertaining, if over soon. There was a hassle, Sirius transformed into a dog and ran after Lupin, Pettigrew broke loose and transformed into a rat to make his escape, and they all sort of started running, if not all in the same direction. In a flash Crucie thought that Regina would probably have some foulmouthed remark to make on the situation. Really, she was running through the dark of night after a werewolf and an escaped convict, and she was thinking about a sex-obsessed basilisk ghost. Perhaps insanity ran in the family after all…

Crucie's thoughts got disturbed when she felt a familiar sense of dread creep up on her, quickly becoming stronger. Dementors. In a flock they came upon them, and Crucie didn't even want to start counting how many it were. They were surrounded quickly, and Crucie saw how Harry tried some defensive spells, but failed miserable, sinking to his knees in despair. She saw how Hermione's eyes widened and how the bushy-haired girl followed her friend to the ground. And that sort of sparked a flash or indignation in Crucie. Hermione Granger was her friend. If anything, she was family. Crucie's knees were weak, and the tormented screaming she had first heard on the train wrecked through her mind again, but the spark of anger somehow lit up to a blazing fire. Anger wasn't positive. Anger wasn't happy in any kind of way. They couldn't take it from her. Her voice was croaked and surprisingly ominous when she screamed at the approaching dementors.

"HANDS OFF MY FRIENDS!"

Her eyes were blazing red and her black curls sparked with escaping magic, but there was no one to notice it but the dementors, and those only felt the wrath of the cruciatus, if anything. The sheer wish to do nothing but hurt them, not for pleasure, not for revenge, but solely for the sake of causing them the most profound pain, gave the torture curse a treacherous edge, even for the amortal and unfeeling dementors. Crucie was consumed by the curse, she wasn't even thinking about her friends or the danger anymore. There was pain to be caused and it was hers to cause.

The dementors were kept at a distance, unwilling somehow to come closer to the students. Perhaps it wasn't pain in the true sense of the word, but the sheer feeling of the curse was so difficult to digest for the creatures that essentially fed on people's emotions that they were reluctant to approach their intended victims.

Crucie didn't know how long it all lasted, but suddenly there was light, a large brightly shining stag galloping over the lake and chasing the dementors. The moment she realized they were gone, all the angry resolve that had kept her standing dissipated and she dropped limply to the ground. The last thing she thought before everything faded was a mental note for her Torture Registry. Dementors? Check.

**(Author's Notes)**

**Yay, a new and longer chapter! This is kind of the key chapter of this story. Sirius and Crucie... they don't really like each other, but there is some respect there. Crucie's epic curse keeps away the dementors! I tried explaining how exactly the dementors experience it; they don't feel pain in the true sense of the word (I don't think they have nerves), but since they feed on emotions, the curse is somewhat comparable to sour milk or moldy bread. I think what they feel when subjected to the curse is a form of disgust. **

**Also, trouble is in the making, in case you hadn't guessed that: Sirius used Crucie's actual name. Now it's hoping that they were all too stunned by the situation to have caught that... (And we all know that's not going to be the case...)**

**PLEASE REVIEW! **

**I live on reviews, they're my motivation to keep writing and the food of my muse! Any comment is welcome! Also, any question you may have, just ask it and it WILL be answered. Cookies for all reviewers!**


	10. Epilogue: Death Eaters Are People Too

When she woke up, Crucie felt as if she had been ran over by the Hogwarts Express. Twice. The light was too bright, everything hurt, and she had no idea where she was.

"Back in the land of the living?"

Crucie opened her eyes slightly, pinching them close immediately again.

"Argh, too bright."

Someone dimmed the light a bit, and now she could see a little better. The figure next to her bed was…

"Theo?"

"In person. I'm guarding your bed."

"That is so valiant knight of you."

"I know right! No, actually it's because I wanted to know first hand how much of the rumours are true."

Crucie cocked her head to the side, wincing at her aching neck.

"Of course. I almost thought you were actually being nice."

Theo let out a dramatic gasp.

"That wouldn't do for a Slytherin of my standing, now would it?"

"Right."

Despite everything, Crucie had to grin at Theo's behaviour.

"So. Rumours. You've been out for four days, and you've missed quite a lot. Sirius Black escaped, that hippogriff Malfoy kept jabbing about escaped; it's kind of obvious they escaped together actually, and the dementors are gone for good. Oh, and Lupin is not coming back for next year."

"Of course."

"Werewolf and all that. Apparently not all people are comfortable with it."

"I think he is least of all."

Theo snorted.

"Anyway, I'm rambling. Rumours. The stories go from you duelling Snape and you letting Sirius Black escape to you fighting a whole army of dementors on your own without a wand. Since you've been lying here being miserable for four days I suppose at least some of it is true."

"Only the last part. Although I did stun Snape… I hope he doesn't remember."

Theo's eyes widened.

"No shit. How'd you do that?"

"What, stun Snape? He wasn't paying attention to me; it was simple really. If I'm lucky he didn't even see it was me."

The young slytherin boy rolled his eyes.

"I meant the dementors. How did you do that!?"

Crucie's grin widened as she remembered.

"How do you think?"

"So… the curse… it works on dementors?"

"So it seems. Not too healthy to do when there's a hundred of them apparently, but it appeared pretty effective for as long as I could keep it up."

Theo stared at the girl in the bed with new respect. He had known Crucio Lestrange to be made of a tough wood ever since they were children and she tortured him out of his toys one by one, but looking at her now he decided she was more than a bully with an unfortunate talent. Crucio Lestrange was a true menace to society, and Theodore Nott wouldn't be a Slytherin if that didn't appeal to him.

"That is… creepy, Black. Seriously creepy. And pretty epic too."

Crucie laughed, and Theo asked.

"So, what are you doing over the summer?"

"Nothing special. Just hanging around on Knockturn probably. If you ever get enough of playing the rich landlord, come and find me at Borgin and Burke's. We can always use an extra hand at sorting out the potions library…"

"You know, if you ever get enough of playing the streetwise London Lady, there's always room in the Nott Mansion… not to mention that we have an army of masochistic house elves to cater to your needs..."

"Masochistic, you say? Watch out before I take you up on it…"

They both grinned at each other. It was doubtful that either would take on any of the offers, but that wasn't the point. It was simply another way to establish that they liked each other's company.

_ (Pagebreak)_

On the train Crucie met Hermione. Or well, Hermione met her.

"I… I wanted to talk to you."

Crucie smiled.

"Sure, come in. I mean; it's empty anyway. Not too many people dare to share a compartment with me it seems."

Hermione looked a little uncertain, but eventually she came in and sat down next to Crucie. She looked like she wanted to say something.

"I… Well… how to say this…"

"Whatever it is, it can't be as bad as the time my uncle decided to give me The Talk. Get it over with."

"I've seen you curse the dementors, before I passed out. I guess I just wanted to say thanks."

Crucie smiled at her friend.

"That's no problem. It was a good experiment. Besides, no one touches my family."

"Your… family? You mean Sirius Black?"

Crucie blushed a bit at her lapse. She couldn't exactly say that Snape also counted as family, because he was Lucius' best friend, and she certainly didn't dare to tell Hermione that she considered her a sister of some sort. That would just be weird.

"Yeah. And my friends of course."

Hermione smiled, but Crucie could almost sense that there was something else the young witch wanted to tell her.

"You… you aren't as directly related to Sirius Black as you pretend, are you?"

At that, Crucie paled.

"What do you mean?"

"I heard you in the Shrieking Shack. Ron was unconscious and Harry was far too shocked, but I've heard it. He called you Lestrange, and you responded to it. I looked the name up."

Crucie bit her lip. There was no escaping it now…

"Then you know. What are you going to do?"

Hermione shrugged.

"I don't know. Depends on what you have to say, I think."

"I have lost almost all my family. I can't lose the few people I have left as well. You don't know them as I do."

"I keep remembering the can of beans. And all those other things you told me… It just sounds so… human."

Hermione blushed. She had never really spent much thought on Death Eaters, but the times she had done so she had certainly not thought of them as people who could have kitchen accidents, a fondness of chocolate pie or children they had to give The Talk to. It was almost embarrassing to realize how much she had dehumanized them in her mind based on a few newspaper articles. Crucie appeared to read her thoughts.

"Exactly. They're just people too, you know. Very nice people at that."

"When you're a pureblood sycophant perhaps."

"Not really. Am I a sycophant? I mean, I'm a pureblood but I can't help that can I? I wouldn't trade my parents for anything in the world."

"Really?"

Crucie scowled at that. Hermione could be a little thick sometimes, despite her obvious brilliance.

"Is that so hard to imagine? They're my parents, and I love them like you love yours. I still miss them every day. You do love your parents, right?"

"I… I do. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be insulting. You're right, I don't know them. All I know is what the library had to say about them."

"Which was probably not too much and nothing very flattering."

"Sort of."

"Well, now you know my secrets."

"I doubt I know all of them."

"Lets hope so! Some things are too embarrassing to ever see the daylight again!"

"I bet you had a horrible nickname when you were little. Something like Crucipoopoo."

Crucie laughed at the almost-accurateness.

"It was Crucie-pie actually, and only my aunt ever called me that. I'm so happy Draco knows I have far too much blackmail on him to ever betray that."

Hermione chuckled.

"My uncle called me Hermypermy… and tell me, something worse than the bed watering?"

"Nicknames. More nicknames than you can imagine. I did think Baby Dray and Drakie-sweet were kind of adorable."

"For a baby yes… but his mother doesn't still…"

Crucie gave Hermione a significant look.

"You mean she STILL calls him Baby Dray?"

"Yup. Even in public."

Hermione laughed out loud.

"That is too funny. Next time that ass calls me Mudblood I know what to say back…"

Crucie sighed. It was nice to have a friend. Even though it was one she had to share with the Boy-Who-Lived and the red-haired bane of her existence. There was a bit of a silence, and Hermione gave her a pensive look.

"I don't understand you, Crucie. But I will keep your secret."

"In that case we definitely have to meet over the summer. My family may have their reserves towards your… kind, but I'm sure they'll love you as soon as they get to know you. At least, my uncle will. He's totally laid-back. Also, he will totally love your hair. He's got a thing for messy brown curls."

Hermione didn't know if what she had read about Rabastan Lestrange counted as "laid-back", but she was willing to take Crucie's word for it. Also, she didn't really want to know what kind of "thing" the youngest Lestrange male might have for her hair. That was just creepy.

"All right. Just owl me whenever you feel like it and then we can meet on Diagon Alley."

"I just feel that this summer is going to be So. Much. Fun."

They both laughed and the rest of the train ride went smoothly.

Hermione looked at her friend and realized she didn't care that the girl was the child of Death Eaters, that she loved to torture people, or that her political opinions were somewhat sociopathic… She could only ever look at her as a friend, as the girl who got ridiculously enthusiastic about muggle stuff, who translated lewd parselmouth expressions in class just to make her giggle, and who had braved a hundred dementors to keep her friends safe. Crucio Carina Lestrange was a Slytherin without a doubt, but something about her was so Gryffindor that Hermione felt she could trust her. She only hoped the promised meeting with the girl's family wouldn't prove to be a mistake…

**(Author's Notes)**

**Yay, another story in the series is FINISHED!**

**The series ISN'T though... **

**Check out the next story: **

_**"Cursing The Unforgiven"**_

**In which there will be car theft, identity confusion, nefarious plotting, poetically justified revenge, a bloody temper, and other strange commodities... **

**Follow Crucie for her fourth year at Hogwarts, and Don't forget to REVIEW! PLEASE?!**

**Questions and comments to this chapter will still be answered, so fire away!**


End file.
